Christmases When You Were Mine
by lilyevans46
Summary: A story inspired by a Christmas Taylor Swift song. It isn't a song-fic, but I was listening to the song and this idea popped into my head. Ginny remembers memories that she's shared with Harry while he's away. Please tell me what you think! :-


She supposed, really, that she was doing quite well. Every day she'd forced herself out of bed and forced herself to eat and forced herself to do something...whether that would be plot against Snape and the Carrows with Neville and Luna, play Quidditch or simply do her homework. It all hurt though, no matter what she attempted to distract herself with – especially at night. She'd found herself sobbing into her pillow so often recently that she'd had to put a silencing charm around her bed. Not that she supposed he cared at all – he'd gone, gone to do whatever gallant thing Dumbledore had forced him into. Sure, he had been the greatest wizard of all time, but Ginny Weasley resented him when it came down to the things he put her ex-boyfriend up to.

The sixteen year old girl in question was sat, curled up in one of the two large, comfy armchairs in the Burrow's front room. It was somewhere she'd have to get used to – she didn't suppose her Mum would let her go back for another term – after what had happened to Luna.

The Order was strained – the evidence was everywhere. Whether it was the lines on McGonagall's face that she was looking at, or the expression on her Father's when he came home from work, it was obvious to anybody that things weren't going well. Ginny wondered, every time she went to bed, whose death she'd wake up to. Times were hard for those who didn't support Voldemort.

Although all her family were around and Fred and George had made an effort to put up decorations, Ginny had never felt sadder or more alone. She wanted to rip down the Christmas tree and the mistletoe and everything else that reminded her of him.

Molly surveyed her only daughter across the room, whilst mixing a bowl full of cake batter in the kitchen. She was worried – Ginny had always been like Fred and George – happy, cheerful...positive. Recently though, she'd been anything but. Whilst she still managed to share a weak smile at one of Fred and George's jokes, she hadn't offered to help with the decorations and didn't even bat an eyelid when they woke to six inches of snow three days previously. Ginny hadn't asked for anything this year...although it was obvious what she wanted.

The person in question, however, was nowhere near them – he was reading 'The Life and Lies and Albus Dumbledore' in a forest covered with snow, wondering how on earth he'd got there – with no parents, no best friend and no wand - not that he didn't love Hermione...she just wasn't the same.

Harry Potter wondered what Ginny was doing. He wondered whether everybody would get Weasley jumpers, and if Molly had bothered to knit him one, in the hope they'd be back. He wondered what Ron was doing...whether he'd dare show his face or whether he'd stay somewhere else. He wondered if Bill and Fleur would be late again and he wondered how Ginny was coping. Selfishly, he hoped she was doing terribly – he wanted her to ache as much as he was doing and crave him as much as he needed her. The nicest, most caring part of him prayed that she was doing fine and that she'd found somebody else. The thought of that hurt too much though, so he tried to change his thoughts back to the wand in his hand.

Ginny sat through Christmas dinner, not eating much and pretending to laugh and her family's attempted jokes. She knew they were trying to make things better for everybody, to pretend all this wasn't happening, but the sadness of the time managed to seep in, especially when the radio was turned on and the death of a completely random muggle family was announced.

As they packed up and the older members of the Weasley clan started to leave, Ginny thought about her bother. She wondered if he was supporting Harry, or if they were arguing a lot – she'd grown up with Ron's temper and knew just how he could be sometimes.

Bill leant over and hugged her "What's up?"

Ginny shrugged "I'm worried about them all...Hermione, Ron, Harry."

"Well, Ron's fine." Bill said quietly.

"What?" Ginny asked quickly, "Have you heard from him?"

"Well, actually, he was staying at ours...he couldn't cope with it."

"He walked out on them, you mean?" She snapped, her face flushing red "Wait till I get my ahnds on him I'm going to-"

"Well, you can't I'm afraid. Fleur went in this morning and he'd disappeared. It looks like he's gone to try and find them."

"Are you joking? He's got no chance! How long's he been there?"

"Few weeks...not long."

"Why didn't you say something you _idiot_?" Ginny screeched, as Bill pulled her outside.

"Because he felt terrible about it and he knew you'd react like this. He ran into a group of snatchers and splinched himself. By the time he could move again they'd gone somewhere else. You can't say anything, Ginny. Promise me?"

Ginny nodded glumly "Okay."

Bill squeezed her tight, unsure of when, if ever, he'd next see her "Look after yourself...be brave."

She nodded, tears escaping her eyes "I will."

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." She said, feeling like it was anything but. It was something people were just saying this year, not meaning it at all.

As She crawled into bed that evening, she wondered if Harry remembered putting up the decorations with her last year, when there was at least something to celebrate. She wondered if he'd missed her and if he ever thought about her. Although her hope was minimal...he probably had much greater, more dangerous things to worry about. And so she fell asleep, praying, as always, that he would stay safe.


End file.
